Being Neighborly
by Dannyblue
Summary: A sequel to “New Neighbors”. A peak inside the mind of a whole new Cordelia Chase. (CA)


**Title:** Being Neighborly  
**Author:** Dannyblue   
**Email: **dannyblue2@yahoo.com   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Category:** Drama  
**Content:** A/C  
**Summary:** A sequel to "New Neighbors". A peak inside the mind of a whole new Cordelia.  
**Spoilers:** None for the show really.   
**Disclaimer:** The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.  
**Distribution:** Just fic. Anyone else, all you have to do is ask.  
**Feedback:** Please and thank you.  
   
   
  
  
  
  
  
She missed her reflection.  
  
Cordy glared at the bathroom mirror, as if it was somehow to blame. As if it could let her see herself if it really wanted to. It was the one thing about her new life she hated. Sure, there were other things she regretted, things she missed. But she hated this, relying on other to tell her if her hair was okay, if her make-up was applied right.   
  
"What idiot made the rule that vampires can't have reflections anyway?" she muttered. "There are plenty of demons who don't have souls, but they see themselves in mirrors just fine."  
  
Sighing, Cordy glanced at the photo she'd Scotch-taped in the center of the mirror. About once a week, Angel took her picture with their handy-dandy instant camera. It was a poor substitute, but she supposed everything, including eternal life, came with a price.  
  
Eyes narrowed, she touched the picture with her index finger. She'd let her hair grow past her shoulders; since she couldn't see her reflection, it was easier to maintain. She'd love a haircut, but finding a stylist who wouldn't freak when they couldn't see your image in their mirrors could be a real bitch. Besides, Angel liked her hair long.  
  
Thinking of Angel made a slight smile touch her lips. His reaction the first time she taped her picture to the mirror had been priceless. She'd bet the million dollars she didn't have that he'd thought she was about to pull a Dru on him. The look on his face...  
  
Lying in bed in the early morning hours, she could feel the waves of worry as they rolled off of him.  
  
"Chill, Angel," she'd said as she rested her head on his shoulder. "It's not a big deal."  
  
"I know," he'd replied, in a way that meant he didn't. "It's just..."  
  
"What? Weird? As weird as, say, you commissioning an artist to paint a portrait of you, decked out in your Sunday best, back in the day."  
  
Angel didn't have anything to say to that. For one, she'd pretty much made her point. For another, he didn't like to remember what Angelus did to the artist in lieu of payment. Cordy was kind of surprised he'd told her the story in the first place. But, sometimes, the pieces of his past bothered him so much, it seemed like he had to talk about it. So they'd lie in bed, and he'd talk for hours, voice thick with pain and guilt. It seemed to make him feel better. She hoped it did. Sometimes, she even wished she could still understand why the stories bothered him so much.  
  
And, of course, she couldn't tell him how the stories excited her. Knowing all the things the hands that stroked her hair, caressed her skin, had done. Knowing all the pain they'd caused...  
  
Sometimes, when they made love, when Angel was inside her, she'd close her eyes and fantasize about one of his stories. About the beautiful teen-aged boy he'd found in Rome, and the hours he spent making him scream. Or the English miss who ran away from home in search of the adventure she'd read about in books...but found Angelus and Spike instead.  
  
Turning off the light, Cordy left the bathroom. Bored, she started to wander around their newly rented house. There was still an hour until sunset, so she couldn't go anywhere. Even if she could, she wouldn't. She'd decided to keep her promise to Angel this time. After Jeff...Well, Angel was so upset, and she felt so bad for being the cause. Besides, moving again so soon hadn't been any fun. So she'd made a new promise not to leave the house without him. And Angel must've believed her. It had been almost two weeks since he locked her in the basement.  
  
Lucky for her. Angel left last night on one of his jobs. He could always find someone willing to pay for the kind of muscle he had. The problem was finding something he was willing to do for that kind of money.   
  
Anyway, he hadn't come home last night. But she wasn't going to worry yet. She was sure he'd just gotten stuck somewhere after dawn. He was safe and sound, worrying about what she would do, and waiting for the sun to go down so he could come home.   
  
If he wasn't home by midnight, she'd start looking for him. And, if anyone had done anything to hurt him, they were going to wish to God...  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound that suddenly reached her ears. It sounded like...someone crying?  
  
A frown puckering her forehead, Cordelia cocked her head. Yep, someone was crying. Someone nearby.  
  
Cordelia walked to the front door. The soft sobs pulled at her, like a magnate pulled at steel. She couldn't have stayed away any more than a predator could ignore the scent of blood coming from injured prey.   
  
Carefully, she opened the front door, cast a wary eye towards the sky. The sun was still out, but no direct sunlight touched the porch. If she stayed on the porch, she'd be safe in the shadows of falling dusk. And she wasn't breaking her promise. The porch was part of the house. As long as she didn't step off the porch, she hadn't officially left the house. So, promise not broken.  
  
Satisfied with her logic, Cordy stepped outside. Her eyes were drawn towards the source of the crying.  
  
At the horse next door, a little girl, 9 or 10, sat on the steps of her own porch. She was bent over, forehead pressed to her knees, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.   
  
"Oh, sweetie," she began, a concerned frown on her face. "What's wrong?"  
  
Startled, the little girl sat up. Frantic hands tried to wipe away her tears. "Nothing's wrong," she said. "I'm okay."  
  
Cordy's smile was doubtful. "Oh, yeah. I know I cry my heart out for no good reason."   
  
A soft sniffle was the little girls only comment. Arms folded across her knees, she stared down at her feet.  
  
"What happened?" Cordy asked. "Did you hurt yourself? Did somebody do something to you?"  
  
After a brief pause, the girl shook her head. "I'm okay," she mumbled, so low, only a vampire could hear. "I just can't get in."   
  
"Oh," Cordy said, nodding as she got the picture. "Your parents aren't home, huh?"  
  
"My mom," the little girl clarified. "My mom's not home. She's working late tonight, and I forgot my key. Or I lost it at school." She ran her hands across her face, scrubbing away fresh tears. "God, I hope I didn't lose it at school!"  
  
"I'm sure you didn't," Cordelia soothed...even as she glared at the beams of sunlight that cut between the two houses. Trying to get through that wouldn't be fun. And, besides, there was her promise. "Maybe you should call your mom and tell her what happened."  
  
"I can't. She'll get in trouble if I call and it's not an emergency. She did before."  
  
"Well, I'm thinking your mom would qualify this as an emergency. I'm sure she wouldn't want you sitting out here for who knows how long."  
  
But the girl shook her head again. "I can't call."  
  
Suddenly, they heard the sound of a 'phone ringing from inside the girl's house.  
  
"See!" Cordy grinned. "I bet that's her right now. When you don't answer, she'll probably realize what happened and..."  
  
"No. She'll probably think I'm out playing somewhere. Or I'm at somebody's house or something."  
  
"Oh."  
  
In silence, they listened to the 'phone ring a dozen times. When it stopped, the girl's shoulders drooped in defeat.  
  
"Well, you can't stay out here," Cordy decided. "You'll just have to wait in my house until your mom gets home."  
  
A look of uncertainty fell over the child's face. "I can't. My mom said I'm not supposed to..."  
  
"Go anywhere with a stranger?" Cordelia asked. "Usually, I'm right there with your mom, believe me. But we're neighbors now, so we won't be strangers for long, right? And there's no way I'm leaving you out here by yourself."  
  
The little girl was tempted. It was written all over her face. She wanted to obey her mother. But she didn't want to be outside all alone, darkness falling around her as the sun dropped from the sky.   
  
"Oh, come on," Cordy urged. She put on her most persuasive smile. "You can have some of my fudge mint cookies. I bought them out of habit really, since I don't actually like them that much anymore. So, they're pretty much all yours."  
  
There was a long moment of uncertain silence. Then, finally, the girl nodded. Standing, she bent down to pick up her backpack...and didn't see Cordy's persuasive smile turn into a satisfied grin.  
  
It seemed to take forever for her to walk the short distance between the two houses. If she could, Cordy would have gone to her, grabbed her arm, dragged her inside. But there was the sunlight, and her promise. So Cordy was forced to wait for her guest to arrive.  
  
"Okay," Cordy began as the girl climbed up the stairs. "You're gonna have to have water with your cookies. Angel and I don't really do the milk thing."  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Yeah, my boyfriend."  
  
"You're boyfriend's name is Angel?" Her nose crinkled in disbelief. "That's kind of a girlie name."  
  
Cordelia chuckled. "That's what I thought at first too. But, believe me, you've never met a guy less girlie than Angel. Besides, the name fits him pretty well. And, speaking of names, what's yours?" Cordy rested her hand on the child's shoulder. Allowed herself a moment to savor the heat coming through her clothes. And she smelled so good. Like shampoo, and baby powder, and little girl.  
  
"I'm Dana," her companion said. A shy smile turned her plain features pretty. Maybe as pretty as that beautiful boy in Rome.  
  
Cordy smiled at the thought. "Well, Dana, I'm Cordelia. But my friends call me Cordy. Welcome to my humble, and in serious need of an interior decorator, home." Hand still on Dana's shoulder, the vampiress steered her new friend inside. "Actually, I'm sort of glad this happened. You have no idea how _bored_ I was."  
  
_________________________  
  
Angel pulled the car up in front of the house, cursing when he felt the tires scrape the curb. But it wasn't his Plymouth, so he wasn't too upset. Just tired.  
  
Turning off the ignition, he leaned back in the car seat with a wary sigh. After taking care of last night's business a little later than expected, he found himself trapped in an old storage room by the coming dawn. No sewer access. No way to get out without getting fried to a crisp.   
  
Things wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been able to sleep the day away. But he couldn't stop thinking of Cordelia. Of what she might have done when he didn't come home last night. She'd promised not to leave the house without him. And he wanted to believe it was a promise she'd keep. He wanted--needed--to trust her. And he didn't think he had the strength to lock her up anymore. The look of betrayal on her face when he pushed her inside, pulled the door shut, put the locks in place. Her screams for him to let her out. Please, let her out.  
  
It was too hard. It hurt too much. He didn't want to have to do that again.   
  
As Angel trudged up the walk way, Amanda Foster's car pulled up to the house next door. He'd never met any of the neighbors. It seemed the days of the Welcome Wagon were long gone...in this town, anyway. Keep to yourself, and people were happy to give you your privacy. However, he'd found out what he could about the people who lived around them. Amanda Foster. Thirty four. Paralegal. Separated. One daughter, Dana, aged 10. Neither one qualified as a threat.  
  
Running a hand across the back of his neck, Angel started up the porch steps...and froze. A chill raced up his spine. Instinctively, he knew that something...something wasn't right.  
  
Then, the scent reached his nose. Baby powder and shampoo and sunshine.   
  
Someone else had been here. Someone young.  
  
Dread filling his unbeating heart, Angel raced up the steps, threw open the door Cordy never locked. He ran into the house...  
  
And was greeted by the sound of laughter.  
  
A confused frown puckering his brow, he walked to the kitchen, stopped in the doorway. Cordy sat at the table, grinning at the young girl who was sat on the other side. Between them lay an open bag of mint fudge cookies, and a glass of water.  
  
Angel was too stunned to make a sound. But the girl, saw him anyway. Startled, she jumped a little in her seat. Her eyes grew wide as her laughter faded away.  
  
Cordy turned. And, when she saw him, a warm, welcoming smile spread across her face. "Angel. I was wondering when you'd get home."  
  
Angel opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again when he realized he didn't know what to say.  
  
Cordy seemed amused by his confusion. Her smile turned into a smirk as she said, "Dana, this is Angel."  
  
"Hi," Dana squeaked, then blushed to the roots of her hair.   
  
Cordy reached over to pat the young girl's hand. "And Angel, this is Dana, from next door. She got locked out of her house, so I invited her in to wait for her mom to get home."   
  
"I think her mom just pulled up," Angel said, sounding as tired as he felt.   
  
"Finally!" Dana said...then blushed even harder. Casting an embarrassed glance in Angel's direction, she stood up and grabbed a backpack from the floor. "Thanks for letting me wait here, Cordy."  
  
"Anytime, sweetie."  
  
Angel stepped aside, giving Dana room to hurry past. Seconds later, he heard the screen door slam shut.  
  
"So," Cordy drawled, strolling leisurely across the room. Stopping in front of him, she rested her hands against his chest. "How was _your_ day?"  
  
Angel closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. Angry. Worried. Afraid. Or maybe he'd settle for confused.  
  
"Cordelia," he began. Pausing, he wrapped his hands around her waste. "What the hell were you doing?"  
  
"What I said I was doing." Cordy smile was pure innocence. "I let Dana stay here until her mother got home. I couldn't let the poor kid sit out there all alone in the dark, now could I?" Resting her cheek against his, she pressed her lips to his jaw bone. "And I didn't touch a hair on her head. Well, not in a bad way."  
  
Angel took a step back, so he could see her eyes. "So, if I hadn't gotten back when I did, you weren't going to..."  
  
"Of course not." She smacked him playfully on the arm. "I promised, didn't I?"  
  
Angel looked deep into her hazel eyes, searching for the truth. Yes, she'd promised. And he wanted to trust her...   
  
"Besides," Cordy continued, "I liked her."  
  
_I liked her._ Those words were almost enough to ease his mind. When Cordy liked someone, it meant she was less likely to hurt them. Not that she wouldn't. Just that she _probably_ wouldn't.  
  
"I am so glad you're home," she said, wrapping her arms around him. She pressed her face against his neck. "I'd just about decided it was time to start worrying."  
  
"I was worried about you too," Angel murmured, running his hand across her back. He closed his eyes, let himself forget everything but the feel of her in her arms. Forget about worry, and fear, and guilt. Tonight, he'd focus on Cordelia, and how it was when it was just the two of them, locked away from everyone and everything else.  
  
Tomorrow, he'd think of a way to protect Dana Foster from the woman he loved.  
  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
